Leah Ball - The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance

But she was a romantic at heart and she hated the thought he was offering out of duty, or even friendship. It was just so Stephen to take on the problem without a thought about his own happiness.

She faltered. “I … I know you are sincere because you specialize in rescuing maidens in trouble, but—”

He straightened away from the fireplace and took a step towards her. “Just one troublesome maiden,” he interrupted, his voice soft, persuasive. “Only you, Sabrina. Always you. It has always, always been you. And just in case you wish to keep harping on how this is all your fault, I have a confession to make. There were more rooms available at the inn that night.”

The intensity in his eyes made her catch her breath. “There were?”

He nodded and advanced. “I’d waited for years for a chance like that. You and me, and a convenient bed … how could I let it pass by? I suppose I should feel guilty for lying to you, but I don’t.”

Years?

Strong hands caught her waist and Sabrina found herself in his embrace, his mouth nuzzling her neck. There was no helping the small sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips, or the shiver of anticipation that rippled through her when he murmured against her skin, “Would it be possible to worry about Bloomfield in the morning? It seems to me I need to convince you my solution is a sound one. Will you stay a little longer?”

She shouldn’t.

They shouldn’t. But then again, when they were together long enough their actions bordered on reckless.

It wasn’t too surprising she melted against him, her fingers curling into his dark hair, her breasts pressing against his chest. She gasped when he swept her up in his arms and walked out the door into a small hallway, but it was a sound of delight, not protest. His bedroom was austere, like the rest of the rooms, but it did have a nice bed, which she discovered was quite comfortable when he deposited her on the mattress and began to unfasten her clothes. Just as eagerly, she unbuttoned his shirt, the warmth of his skin under her questing fingertips causing a curl of excitement deep in her belly. Her gown, chemise, garters, stockings and slippers were carelessly tossed aside. When Sabrina fumbled trying to undo his breeches, he ended up doing it himself.

“I’m seducing you again,” he murmured as he settled on top of her body in a smooth athletic movement. “And if this time doesn’t do it — fair warning — I’ll continue to seduce you until even someone as reckless and unconventional as you agrees to take the respectable route and become my wife.”

Sabrina gave a breathless laugh, the length of him pressed against her inner thigh, hot and hard. “You can be infuriatingly determined when you want something.”

He nibbled her lower lip. “Think of the adventures we can share. I’ve never seen a rainforest or ridden a camel.”

It was a generous offer, for she knew he loved England and was at heart a respectable gentleman. She would wager most of the trouble he’d gotten into in his childhood was due to her instigation. Very lightly she touched his lean cheek. “I don’t think my wanderlust is quite what it once was. Staying home holds a certain appeal and, for your information, riding a camel really isn’t all that much fun. They are rather ill-tempered creatures.”

He laughed and kissed her, and then the kiss turned molten and his hands were everywhere, caressing, exploring, evoking small tingles of pleasure. And when he joined their bodies and sank deep inside her, she experienced a bliss that wasn’t just due to the physical enjoyment of the moment, but also to the poignant way he whispered her name.

That glorious summit rose, the peak promised rapture and, when she gained it and toppled over, she clung to him and quivered in unabashed erotic release, made all the more intense and satisfying when he went rigid and she felt him shudder.

“I suppose I could marry you to foil Lord Bloomfield’s malicious revenge,” she teased as they lay in damp contentment afterwards, her head pillowed comfortably on his muscular chest. “Though I do have one stipulation.”

“Oh? How clever of you to strike a bargain when I am in my current weakened condition.” His lazy smile made him more devastatingly handsome than ever. “Do tell.”

“You must promise to continue to seduce me.”

“I believe I can make that concession.” His grin faded and those crystal grey eyes glimmered with a serious light. “I think you know I would give you anything within my power. I’ve loved you as long as I can remember. It changed, of course, as we got older, but it was always there.”

“I think I have always loved you too,” Sabrina said slowly, “though I admit I didn’t recognize the difference between friendship and romance. You were just you. It’s funny to think I didn’t see it. After each trip, the moment I return to England, my very first order of business is to see you. Once I do, I am truly home. And when I am away, though it is all exciting and interesting, I miss you and think of you often.”

“Picture me here, worrying over what kind of danger you might be in and myself a continent or ocean too far away to help you.” His voice held just a hint of a ragged edge and his long fingers smoothed her hair. “It was torment.”

It was galling to think she had Lord Bloomfield’s devious machinations to thank for her current state of happiness, but in a convoluted way she supposed she did. “If we are going to marry,” she said, snuggling even closer, relishing the feel of Stephen’s arm around her, “Lord Bloomfield’s petty threat is foiled, but he could still remain vengeful and isn’t without influence. I suppose I could loan him the notes needed to finish the paper he has started if he agrees to credit my father as an equal partner.”

“That sounds like a reasonable bargain to me.” Stephen brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I am, after all, a solicitor. I could draw up a legal document for him to sign.”

“You are, as always, quite handy to have around.” Sabrina rose up and her smile was deliberately mischievous. “Who would think such a mild-mannered gentleman would make such a marvellous partner in crime? If it wasn’t for your skill with the picklock, we would never have been able to steal back the notes.”

Without warning, she was tumbled to her back so quickly she gasped.

“Would a mild-mannered gentleman do this?” Stephen demanded teasingly as his fingers did something very, very wicked between her legs. “Besides, as you’ve pointed out, we didn’t steal anything. The notes were yours to begin with.”

“But something was stolen that night,” Sabrina whispered, drowning in sensation.

“What?” He went very still.

“My heart.”

Softly, he kissed her. “Well, do not expect me to give it back.”

Annalise Petty sat primly on the carriage seat, hands folded neatly in her lap. Outwardly, she probably appeared to be the perfect genteel lady, full of grace and peace. But inside, a battle raged. Her heart beat wildly and her stomach felt like a gnarled mess of knots. In two days she would become wife to the most boring, proper man in all of London. A man she had foolishly fancied herself in love with when he’d first begun to court her. Then he’d revealed his true self. Now she knew he was rather indifferent to her and only interested in the business deal the union brokered.

She chewed at her bottom lip. The carriage rumbled along through the dark night. Her parents had already made the journey to Kent, but Annalise and her younger sister, Penny, had stayed behind for one last fitting of the wedding gown. The dress, in layers of cream-coloured gossamer silk, was the finest garment Annalise had ever owned. Her betrothed had purchased her an entire wardrobe of appropriate clothing, which would be delivered to his estate sometime next week. The wedding gown, though, sat neatly in a trunk on the back of the rig.

Hildy, their maid, rested quietly across from them, pretending not to nap, though her level breathing and spontaneous snores betrayed her. Penny sat quietly, her expression blank. Sweet and beautiful Penny. Annalise sighed. This should have been her trip, her wedding gown in the back.

As if her sister had read her mind, Penny placed a gloved hand over Annalise’s. “You should be excited,” Penny said. “Your grin belies your worry.” She smiled warmly. “Relax.”

Annalise thought to argue, then nodded. “You know me far too well, sister. I cannot help but think that all of this should be for you. This is your season, your introduction to society.”

“And you never had either.” She put a hand against her chest. “I am so very happy for you. Your union with Lord Benning has no bearing on my finding a good match. Besides, you are older, you should marry first.”

Yes, but Cousin Millicent hadn’t offered to sponsor a season for Annalise, and, though her father was an earl, they had no money to provide either a dowry or a proper coming-out. So Annalise had neither, which was fine with her. She had resigned herself to never marrying. But when the opportunity had come along for Penny, well, the entire family had moved in with their distant cousin in the hope of a quick marriage. This had not been what any of them had planned.

At three and twenty, Annalise knew she should consider herself lucky to have found a man willing to marry her. She certainly wasn’t unattractive, but she was fleshier than most society beauties. Still, she hadn’t been properly introduced at Almack’s. She’d only gone to London at Penny’s request to act as a chaperone of sorts. And as she’d sat in the corner at that first ball, she’d seen the tall, handsome Griffin Hartwell, Viscount Benning moving in their direction. She’d even reached over and squeezed Penny’s hand in excitement for her younger sister. Then when the rich baritone voice had asked her to dance and the masculine hand had extended not to Penny, but instead to Annalise, it had been scandalous. She’d wanted to decline, had known it would have been the more appropriate thing to do, but as she’d looked up into his handsome face, all her girlish fantasies had come to life and she’d found herself nodding and extending her own hand.